


Because Once Upon A Time, Everything Goes Wrong

by InfernalMachette, Lunyhime95



Series: Brothelstuck! [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Aliens, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Alternia Dark Market, Brothelstuck, Child Abuse, Child Slave Trading, Concillatory Harassment, F/F, F/M, Gen, Horrorterrors - Freeform, Interplanetary Cohabitation, Interplanetary Travel, Kidnapping, M/M, Molestation, Multi, OC, Original Character(s), Original Troll Characters, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pedophiliac Intentions, Poor Karkat, Quadrant Harassment, Sexual Harassment, Slave Trading, Slavery, Those are a thing still, Xeno, Xenophilia, auughhh, brothel, classpects, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5202434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfernalMachette/pseuds/InfernalMachette, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunyhime95/pseuds/Lunyhime95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That 'Once Upon A Time' that you had longed for so dearly.....</p><p>Oh poor, weeping wretched child, it was never for you to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>***ON HIATUS***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once Upon A Time

**Author's Note:**

> Huge THANK YOU to the lovely Miss_String for being my RP partner, and helping birth this wonderful idea that nobody asked for. 
> 
> Please enjoy~!
> 
> And thank you for your patronage~ ;o9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~BOOK OF INNOCENCE, ACT 1~

Things almost never work out the way you expect or hope them to, nothing ever really goes according to the books you read, the plays and movies you watch, or the machinations you dream, and 'Once upon a time's' don't always have a 'Happily ever after'. Sometimes, everything just goes so, so, unbelievably wrong, and there is absolutely nothing you can do.

 .

.

.

.

You were struck with that the moment your lusus went down.

 

Once upon a time, you were laid and hatched on your home planet of Alternia, surpassed the cave trials, picked up by your lusus and was lucky enough not to be sent to colonize any of the newly discovered planets, despite your off-spectrum mutation, and had your hive built to your grubling designs. Not long after, you were able to safely go through your primary pupation, spun your bright little cocoon, and waited until your new body became too big that you had to emerge, a new little wriggler troll. 

The first time you see your reflection, you can't help but feel inadequate. You're small, a lot tinier than what you feel you should be, your cheeks are too round, like you're still a grubling. Your nubby little horns barely make it past your hair, and your limbs are similar; short and stubby. You can't help but feel a little angry at yourself.

Your first sweep, your lusus had set you right on to schoolfeeding, making sure you knew as much as you could, reciprocated screeching no longer being your only form of communication and language, teaching you safety precautions to keep yourself safe and secret, being off-spectrum and all.

It seems that you developed a romantiscization of your planets Threshicutioner Corps., the elite legion that served under the Empress. You could see yourself as a part of that, instead of the worthless image of yourself that you currently had. Maybe you'd even meet Her Imperial Condescension? Even a mess-up like you? It was possible, as mutant-culling was no longer allowed on Alternia.

Your interests also began to gear towards the wondrous joy that was the beautiful complication of romance, the majority of your free time going towards books and films, trying to gain as much knowledge as possible about quadrants. You were so _in love_ with the idea of love, only three and a half sweeps.

 

That was around when they came for you.

 

You should never have opened your front door that day. Maybe none of what happened would never have happened. But you did, and the two adults that towered over you smiled with great rows of teeth more than sharp enough to pierce your skin. They were so, so tall, no visible colors, just the long growth of horns of a bigger troll, and you barely came up to their middle. Claws stretch out and have you by the neck, you kicking and flailing to escape the grasp. Your lusus hears, and rush-charged them, screeching loudly and snapping his viciously rough claws, swiping at the intruders, forcing them back a bit. You are dropped so you scramble backwards, further into your hive, equip the practice sickle that you'd received for your last wriggling day. Your hands are shaking.

Your lusus bellows a low, rolling sound you've never heard from him before, is just barely bigger than the adults, takes in air to his middle to puff up. He cracks one of them across the brow in a glancing hit. This angers them, and they have shock-prods pulled out, jerking sparks in bursts from the tip. Swipes again, catches one of the rods and clamps down, trying to break it. But he doesn't pay attention to the other troll, who sticks him in the middle while he's distracted. Your guardian roars in pure agony, as he's been struck through hard armor carapace, and the stick burns his insides. His claws swing madly, trying to throw them off or to escape the pain, you don't know. The adults just keep sticking him, over and over, and you so badly want to look away, want to look at anything else but you uselessly sit there against the wall while your caretaker dies slow and horribly.

You are both afraid and angry, afraid for your custodian, afraid for what will happen when they're done with him, and then angry for how useless you are, unable to defend yourself, let alone your home or your only companion. You bite back a cry, can't help the single tear that falls, when your lusus drops, clatters to the ground, right at your front door. The adults smile once more, and step over his corpse, towards you.

You scrabble at the wall and dash for the stairs, take them by as many as you can. You go for your respite block and almost manage to lock the door.

 

Almost isn't good enough.

 

The door is shoved through the latch, knocking you back flat on your ass. One scruffs you and holds you up, and for all that you scream and hit and cry, the other pokes and prods at you, inspecting you for whatever, wipes a finger at your tear-tracks, studies it over and grins.

 

"Well, aren't you a pretty color..."

You tremble at the snicker he makes, a simple yet terrible sound and you can only guess what it means for you. They leer at you while they cover your eyes and place something foul over your mouth and nose. Despite the hopelessness of the situation, you still continue to struggle, even though......

.......you........you can't ........quite......

........wait.....you.....

...........................................................................

You're fading.

* * *

 

 

 

When you come to, everything is almost pitch black and you wonder if you fell asleep outside of your recuperacoon again. Your eyes feel a bit too sore, like you'd cried in your sleep, and everything else is stiff like you've been sleeping for a long time. When you try to stand you feel a tug on your ankles and end up stumbling over your own legs. They've been bound, so have your arms, and you remember, so horribly, what happened before you went out. Panicked, you manage to sit up, try to take a guess at where you are.

It's a small, metal containment block, the only source of light you can find is coming from beyond the sealed cell door. Your bindings are done tightly, not even a little bit of wiggle room. The only thing you can do is wait, or even hope that time will loosen or even weaken the restraints.....hopefully.

......

~~_There is no hope for you, is there?_ ~~

You push yourself the best that you can towards the far wall and sigh in relief that you still have your sweater at least, something to separate you from the cold floor.

You shut your eyes, and despite the hollow of your stomach growling at you that it's not, you pray that it's all a dream.

Once upon a time, you were a free, young Karkat Vantas.


	2. There Was A Sad Little Troll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omfgog, fucking finally....
> 
> That feel when you cannot write

You jump awake at a loud, echoing clang and.....

 

.........Screaming?........You hope it's not screaming......

 

........Your arms have been untied, and so have your legs......

Somebody has _touched_ you in your sleep, and that makes you feel just so unnerved and.....

How _long_ have you been asleep?

 

Shadows move across the sliver of light that filters under the door, bringing your containment block back and forth from darkness. The dread that's been balling in your stomach starts a slow swell, and you can feel it trying to make its way out your throat. You press further against the cold of the metal wall and will back down, try to take deep breaths and not think too much about what was on the other side of the door.

 

There's more loud scraping, right up against the door this time, and something is shoved under the space of it. You're frozen stiff still until you hear the shuffling footsteps moving farther and farther away, and even after you wait some more. Finally, after what feels like hours but really it's only been a few minutes, you gather what will you have and shimmy as quietly as you can manage, which isn't all that hard, considering your size.

It turns out to be food, a large roll of grainwheat, dehydrated fruit and a water pack on a flat tray. You take it back to your corner to further inspect it; you're not completely useless, you did retain at least something from your schoolfeeds. None of it smells poisoned, and the water pack is entirely sealed up, and when you take a nibble of the grain roll is when you realize how achingly hungry you are, nearly choke yourself on a too big bite. You almost don't care.

You devour all of it, even though the fruit tastes vilely sour and very unsatisfying, unsure if you'll be getting another meal soon, push the tray as close to the door without it actually being outside and crawl back to your corner. There's nothing else to do besides trying not to cry or speak, and sleeping. You choose the latter; sleep will take you away from here at least for a little while.

 .

.

.

Once again you are startled awake. Loud shuffling right at your door, a couple of beeps and the sound of a lock mechanism. The door disappears into the wall, light floods into the room all at once and you push into your corner as much as you can, make yourself as small as possible for once, shield your eyes, way too sensitive to the sudden brightness. 

 

"Oy! There something you wanna tell me, or it just completely slip your sponge, Vel? 'Cause this one looks like a _wriggler_ to me."

 

You flinch, impossibly huddled into the small corner. He speaks in Alternian,  you barely make the shape of a troll and it's a new voice, not one of the ones that took you, an accent from another continent. There's a second figure, also troll-like, with a curvier body.

 

"Oh, yeah! Completely forgot about that~! I was just so excited about that _pretty_ coloring he's got, y'know~? Got him a few days ago, blood mutant, unnatural temperature, psychic null, growth deficiency-," she lists off in a sugar sing-song lilt all of the things that could ever possibly be wrong with you, self-consciousness demands that you keep your face covered by your arms," -I mean _look_ at his horns, he would have been culled, y'know!? If culling laws hadn't been placed, right?. Just look at how tiny and cute he is!"

Footsteps start toward you, way too fast, and you look up too late. Adults are _fucking huge_ , and _fucking terrifying_ , seeing one for the second time in your span doesn't lessen that anymore than the first, especially when you're are removed from solid ground by the scruff of your sweater. You yelp a little until it turns into hissing and angry, upset growling, as threatening as it can be, coming from you.

The woman ( _Oh my god, she's cerulean, she's fucking huge, she's blue, ohmygodohshitohmYGOD_ ) holds you up, kicking and snarling, and clucks her tongue,"Aww, c'mon now~. No need to have a fit, little sugargrub~!," she grubtalks at you, making you feel all the more uselessly upset,"Y'know what that means~?" Her voice suddenly goes from the candy floss sugar to dead cold,"Calm the fuck down, brat."

She seethes as she grounds a knuckle into your hornbed and- _oh. That's_ \- you whimper as your body goes so very limp and all of you nearly shuts down. None of yourself wants to move, muscle and nerves refuse to listen and a involuntary purr thrums up from your vocal box. She goes back to that saccharine candy voice and maneuvers you into a cradling hold,"Now see~? Isn't that _much_ better~? Such a sweet little grubling~. Oh my god, you're really warm, hotter than a rusty!" She giggles, then turns to ice again, nuzzling against your cheek,"Isn't it much better when you _behave_?"

You feel dizzy when she turns toward the other troll, cobalt, blue, you almost forgot he was there.

"Anyway~! Just look at how sweet and docile he is! Purring all precious like that. As mild as a little woolbeast, and just as cute, y'know~? He's special enough that we can get _tons_ of money from him. Somebody's _just_ got to have a fetish! Perfect, isn't it~?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I get it, I just prefer our line of work without risks like _that_. Ain't all for execution by our Empress, if she finds out about my cartel brand. Slave trafficking _is_ illegal in most charts of the galaxy, no matter what planet...though," He leers at you with an oil-slick grin," That ain't never stopped anybody from buying before."

 Even in the hazy state you're in, that chills you through to the bone. You want to scream, fight, anything ( ~~ _you are powerless_~~ ), but all you get is the woman still holding you, rubbing over your body, touching you- _you know for a real good fucking fact they're not supposed to be touching you like that_ \- ( ~~ _you are powerless_~~ ) and oh god, you're so goddamn scared and you can't do anything because ( ~~ _you are powerless_~~ )you really are still a useless wriggler, there are fucking adults towering over you, discussing your fate right in front of you( ~~ _you are powerless_~~ ). You want your lusus to be alive, to come and save you and protect you from them( ~~ _you are powerless_~~ ). You want for somebody to help you like in your books or your movies but-

 

You are _powerless._

You can do _nothing._

You are _worthless._

 

"Heehee~! Oh my gosh, you're 'sho shoft and shquishy~! Just like sugar puffies~! Rek, c'mon, poke him, just once~!" 

"Oh sweet Velyia, I don't touch wrigglers. Not m' taste. But you are~..."

 

You would have thrown up but you're in a bit of a state at the moment. 

"Oh my god, Reknir, not in front of the wittle grubling!"

High-pitched giggles hurt your aural clots sharply, and she, Velyia, you guess, presses cold lips to your horn, forces out of you a shudder, and then places you back down against the equally cold wall.

"Now be good, alright, little sugargrub~?" She ruffles your hair and leaves the block with her companion, the door shutting right behind them. As tears start to well up, you catch the last little snippets of their conversation.

"No, but really, I don't wanna see your kismesis around here. He's gonna fuck that kid's pan up, and then what? We'll have _another_ mindless shit that's gonna be hard to sell."

"Aww, no. He wouldn't do it on purpose, y'know~?..........I think...." Another screeching giggle echoes as they become too far to hear anymore.

 

Your whole body shakes, and then one of your arms finally give and flings out to the floor; you can move again. You sob with empty, gasping breath and wrap yourself tightly, but not even the sweater can keep out the ugly chill running up your spine. Pale, pinkish drops soak into your sweater, just mouthing 'fuck' over and over.

 

You let sleep take you somewhere else once again.


	3. Who Was All Alone, And Far From Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Troll Pedophilic Molestation!
> 
> And some Violence.
> 
> And an Alien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gog, here come more OC inserts, please don't hate me
> 
> (also, im calling in the theory card: Karkat was supposed to be a limeblood, but mutation happened, so no psychic power, BUT. As a leftover from the limeblood supposed to be a thing but not being a thing currently, leftover ability is that Karkat is absolutely irresistible to any other troll, in whatever sense of context you want to take that as. Knock yourselves out, I sure did.)
> 
> ((also don't listen to me(Luny), I am a very bad influence))

.

.

.

You have no sense of time, other than you know you must have been here for a long, long, time. There are no nights to count, you can't even see anything out of your dark cell block, the only light comes in from the slot under the door. Can't even tell how long it's been since you've seen both of the moons. You want to go home.

_~~You are never going home.~~ _

 

The adults come back to every so often, scare you awake. The lady hasn't touched you or your horns since then, just comes around to jeer at you, you can't even talk back, too afraid to. Doesn't stop the fact that you flinch every time she so much as glances at you. Someone else comes by later, but stays outside the door, shadow visible through the slot, blocks some of your light. You don't know why, but the most terrible, dreadful feeling comes over you, you think you're going to die, are about to die. Tears force their way out of wide-open eyes and you clamp hands over your mouth, too loud, can't even breathe right anymore, almost biting, so tightly to keep from making sounds, a whimper gets through anyway, your whole body shaking violently, just so, _so_ afraid.

You hear a dark chuckle from the other side, and the shadow finally moves, slow shuffle-steps, your air sacs decide that they work again.

 

You close your eyes, hope for a dream, a nightmare, anything.

.

.

.

There's some sort of clanking that startles you, throws you to sit up, eyes disoriented. You blearily realize it's from the door being open, until you blink out the sleep and immediately set your eyes wide on the figure crouching in front of you.

A wide stretching mouth shows off jagged fangs,"Hey, sugar bait."

 

You tense and freeze all at once, stare up into wild bright leery purple( _oh shit, he's_ purple, _they have chucklevoodoos, it was him_ ) narrowed down at you, a familiar sick feeling settles into your gut. There isn't any paint.

You feel like you're going to cry, but you can't even find the will to move, let alone blink, and fear freezes you in, not even a whimper escapes.

 

"Shhhh grubling, ol' Ter ain't gonna do much of anything, jus' keep yourself all nice and quiet-like for me, yeah? Then we can plays us a little game."

He looms, and you always knew the higher up they were the bigger they got, but even crouching the adult's height still _dominates_ yours completely. He just seems to be getting closer and closer and-- oh god, you think you can smell his breath( _it's smells like blood_ ). He snickers, sticks his tongue between his death-trap teeth and reaches for you with long claws. You don't, _can't_ , even flinch when he drags sharp cold fingers down your cheek; tears finally spill over and run down your chin, still you can't blink, you know you will die if you blink.

The other hand comes to your neck, rubs at a spot under your jaw before sliding down to the juncture of your shoulder, icy hands feeling the skin underneath your turtleneck.

"See, lookit you, all behavin' and such. You know what game we're gonna play? We're gonna play ' _Don't make a fucking sound else I rip your airpipe out_ ', you hearin' me?"

You shake your head frantically, because _no_ , no you don't want to play _any_ kind of game with the purple adult, you want him to go away and take his fear fuckery with him. He makes a tsking noise and yanks up your sweater.

Your arms scramble to rake his cold hands away, hissing and snarling, claws not nearly sharp enough to do any kind of damage. Still, you try to get his hands away from your belly, nothing, especially anything sharp, should be where your softer bits are. 

He's laughing harder now, and there's another hand at your pants, which prompts you to kick out. No.

 

"Teri~ What the fuck are you doing?"

 

The purple stops, hands still on your skin,"...Motherfucking naggy-ass bitch, _WHAT_!?"

 

The cerulean lady is back, and crosses the room so fast she almost blurs, then slams the heel of her shoe into the purple's side,"Stupid fucker, you already know you aren't supposed to be in here. Leave the little wriggler alone. C'mon, out. _Now_."

 

He scoffs, but stands up anyway, wincing, and releases you. The blue lady throws something towards the other wall of your cell block, then drags the purple guy out by his horns. You're shuddering while you hear their voices from outside, and you feel sick of the memory of freezing hands touching.

 

"Fucking shithead clown worshiper, we want that one in one piece, what part of that do you not understand!?"

"Wasn't gonna do anything--"

"You had your hands all over him! Do you know how hard it is to sell damaged merchandise? Or, heehee~ Were you trying to make me jealous~?"

"Shut up, I don't even like you."

"Oh, but you like the pailing, huh?"

"Fuck you."

"Mmm, is that a promise~?"

 

The rest is giggles and snarls, and thuds that reverberate on the walls. When you move your limbs are still shaking terribly and instead of standing you have to crawl to inspect what the woman left. It's an air sealed box of food, but you can't even bother with opening it, opting to scrabble for the load-gaper so you can throw up. You push yourself away, dizzy and stomach empty, fall asleep against the wall with your meal forgotten.

.

.

.

Again, you're awakened by another scream. There's more of a growl in it than a shrill, almost like an animal. Whoever makes it keeps it long and loud, and it's getting louder by the moment, along with whoever is scuffling outside the door--

Oh, _no_...

 

You try to press as much into the corner as possible, no, _no_ , _nonononononono_ \--

 

The door beeps and slides open, four walk in, the two who have been visiting you, the indigo, bringing with him that dread you felt hours(seconds, minutes, hours, days, it doesn't matter anymore) ago, and a bound snarling mass of dark.

 

"What, bitch!!? You wanna fight!?"

 

From what you can see, it looks like a troll, but you can't see the horns But there are _tons_ of long, long tendrils, just as long as the Empress's, if not longer, of _hair_. It seems to shimmer, even in the dark of the room. It howls at it's wardens, thrashing it's head, arms pulled back by the purple restraining it--

 

"Oh _FUCK_ \--!! THE DAMN BITCH GOT ME IN THE NOSE!!" It had thrown it's head back far enough to smash into the purple troll's face, fresh wet splatters on the floor.

The woman troll laughs,"That's actually a better look for you, Teriad~."

"Oh, fuck you, Vel. The fuck are those cuffs at!? This one's got some freaky alien voodoo or somethin'--"

 

As if it was cued, it wrenches itself out of the purple's hands, the hair turns lusus white, whiter than that, and the skin is smoking grey. It's face finally flips up and the eyes are even white. It expression is twisted into something dark and terrifying, little torrents of sparks emitting from the eyes, lips pulled back and fangs just as blunted as yours show off as a warning. The hair moves on it's own and a few tendrils strike forward, attacking the purple angrily, start pulling at his limbs, like it's gonna rend him apart. You watch with wide eyes while it begins to cackle, speaking words that don't make sense, obviously not Alternian.

 

Until it says something with a broken accent that is.

 

" ** _I take your insides with much happy_**."

 

It's claws look blunt, but the grip it has on the purple is piercing and there are trickles of blood running down his face and it's smiling something awful.

 

Then the blue lady returns with an olive who reaches into the hair with an electric prod. It screams with multiple voices and the cerulean rushes in to clamp a pair of handcuffs around its hands, and a collar to it's neck. It goes down with a cry and black seeps back into the hair, now unmoving, and the skin pales to that lusus white. The adults start to leave, except the purple turns around to kick it's stomach and the others have to drag him out, hear the door lock behind them. You can hear them yelling at each other in the hall.

 

You cautiously check over the thing that's curled itself into a lump in the corner. It's figure is shivering, and you think that it's crying, trying to make quiet sniffles and clutching at it's stomach, there's some sort of impulse to make sure it's okay, but you squash it down out of fear and the possibility of it attacking you.

 

You watch it carefully until your eyes fall shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Fucking finally update...)
> 
> And there is art on the way~  
> As soon as this goddamn tablet will cooperate
> 
> (Should there be an FAQ page started for this?)


	4. Such A Poor, Wretched Little Pupa, He Met A Strangling Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, scratch that last theory card, for I have another~. Better yet, Karkat's mutation makes him a [classified information], and this is a much better reason as to why trolls want to keep touching him( huzzahs all around)(wHO'S TOUCHING TEH CHILD!!?). Everything that couldn't have gone wrong before most certainly, definitely can now, haha. "Boy do I feel fucking proud of myself", I say, tears pouring from my face.

_._

_._

_._

It's moved and settled into it's own corner on the other side of the cell in the time that you've had your eyes closed, probably licking its wounds( _as well as pride_ ), in a sense. Your aurals pick up on the slight, catching wheeze as it breathes, still somewhat sobbing and curled into the chrysalis position. Little echoes of it's faint voice seem to bounce off the cell block. Vulnerable as it is, you dare not move any closer. You might be young, but you're not stupid( _much_ ), and if you can remember anything important from your schoolfeeds, one of them has to be never dumbly approach an injured creature of unknown origins.

Not a very appropriate to think of it, as it might not be an animal at all, but even to this point you value your existence, however meager and pointless it seems right now.

 

There isn't any new food tray near the door, nor do you have to make use of the loadgaper, so left with nothing else to do other than try to rouse the other sentient being in the room, you opt to close your eyes. Maybe if you leave it alone, it will oblige and do the same.

.

.

.

There's some sort of crooning noise, like someone's humming, and it's not the pleasing kind of thrum that you used to hear from the trolls in your movies, close, but nothing like it at all. Still somewhat pleasant to your aurals, though.

By the time you can force your eyelids up enough to see, you notice something bright and lusus pale in front of you, not at all registering that there is in fact something right in front of you and you might possibly be in danger. When it does actually dawn on you that _there is something right in fucking front of you **MOVE YOU IDIOT**_ , then you finally find the common sense to back up into your corner, warning with a rattle in your throat.

 

It stands out almost quite clearly against the dimness of the cell block, somewhat trolloid in shape, with a distinct lack of horns. Waving rivulets of hair as black as yours starkly frames it's face, reaches and fans out across the floor behind it( _you could have sworn it was longer the last time it was conscious; is it moving??_ ), and it makes the lusus white skin contrast sharply, like it could be glowing even. Piercing  _purple_ irises study you back( _should you be scared of that? Or is that a normal thing for it's species?_ ).

The more you look, the more feminine it seems, not including obvious rumblespeheres. Or at least what you've been able to tell what girls looked like, from your movies, and you've only ever had to look up the word ' _androgyny_ ' once( older, too. It's definitely older than you are. You think). She blinks quickly, oculars never leaving you, considering whatever it is that a not-troll might consider with something smaller than themselves. Probably thinking of how it's going to eat you, you saw those teeth earlier.

A brittle-clawed hand flicks up suddenly, pointed towards you. Her finger curls in a gesture, asking you forward with a tilt of her head and a seemingly non-threatening curl of her mouth.

 

" _Move to me_."

 

The word sounds strange from her weird mouth( _and very grammatically incorrect_ ), teeth somewhat flatter than you remember. You have mixed feelings telling you what to do, along with mixed instinctual signals, blaring either strife or truce. How do you handle this kind of situation? You should try something to get her back on the other side of the block, but what? You bet your claws and fangs are barely sharp enough to puncture through skin of any kind, so what kind of threat could you possibly pose? Your sponge then decides to reason out that if the alien wanted, she could have very well killed you while you slept instead of waiting for you to wake.

That or it might be something of a sadist, and you really rather not find out if that's true.

 

She makes a weird sound in her own language( _it's sound is lilting, pretty even, almost like a melody, or a choir. There are old stories, fairytales, of seadwellers from long before the time of the Empresses, whose voices had a similar sound, and you had always used to nightdream about a seadweller like that who would maybe, possibly, fall in love with you, even if they didn't exist anymore, at all_ ), looking a little put-out, her other hand scratching at her forehead and her faced scrunching up like she's trying to think.

 

"Uhm.... _I_ , uh...," she curses, or at least it sounds like a curse, in her tongue, becoming frustrated," _I_ , _sela_? Nng, _no no_ , umm... _I not_... _wrong_...? Aghh...!" The more she tries to speak to you, the more flustered it's making her, which really brings down her threat factor. Like by a lot, if you're being honest. It's a little funny, how her mouth won't make the words you can easily, it's hard to keep from snorting. ( _That's the closest ever to any other kind of sound besides whimpers of fear, and your vocal box tickles for it_.)

She snaps something at you out of annoyance, but gives a huff of tired laughter. Pushing off of her legs to sit against the wall, she sighs and lands a few feet from you, close but not too close," _Sorry_...," she murmurs, dejected. 

 

You figure if she's wasting the time to talk to you, she's probably not going to kill you. For the time being, at least.

 

"...'s fine," you croak, never realizing how much not speaking could have hurt, your vocal box feeling scratchy and the hinge of your mouth near creaking( _you swear you could have heard it!_ ). It's also weird not being able to tell if someone understands you or not. Her vocal box sounds so weird to you aural canals,  But the distraction of another being, one who currently does not bear you any ill intentions, is sort of relieving, you could almost relax( _almost_ ).

She sits near you, muttering under her breath and turning away. Chittering some sort of tune at nothing in particular and slouching forward with her face resting in her hands.

You're so surprised when she smacks herself in the face suddenly, an open-palmed resounding slap echoes off the walls of the cellblock, hissing a cuss in that weird song-tone," _Fuck_ , _dashri_ \--! _Dassri_ \-- _cahoots_!!" She repeats the word over and over again, tripping over snorting laughter.

This time you giggle wholeheartedly, you'd sort of already guessed that's what she wanted to say.

.

.

.

It's a bit odd how well you seem to be getting along.

 

She tries to get you to learn each other's names. Asks permission for your hands with motions and gestures, brings them to her throat. The lack of caution of your claws being anywhere near vital bits would be almost an insult- a reminder of how little danger you are to anybody or anything -but she's yet to do anything remotely terrible to you( _it's not like she grubnapped you and locked you in here with only her alien self for company_ ).

Song vibrates on the pads of your fingers and she stops after saying it a few times to point at herself. The look on her face is brimming( _literally, the pearlescence of her skin is starting to glow a little_ )with enthusiasm, nodding at you with pointed encouragement.

It's so weird trying to repeat that lovely sound, and it isn't until you try with just your middle and upper vocal box that you can almost imitate the same thing.

 

Her name is Lunari( _you think, it's a little hard to pick out_ ); it sounds so pretty, it's a shame that the Alternian vocal set is intent on fucking it up. She, Lunari, squeals when you kind of get it, though you're not sure if it was because you were close or when you do try to say her name there's some sort of urge to chirp on the last syllable. You're a little embarrassed, and she's visibly trying to restrain herself from fawning over you.

Lunari points to you, makes some noise of inquiry, and you can kind of guess what she wants. Honestly, you're nervous about anything being near your neck, that's like instinct rule number-fucking-one: No one and nothing near your vitals; It's why you had only sweaters. At the very least, she doesn't force her hands to your airpipe, just suspends them midair in front of you, waiting for you to be okay with it( _someone, for once since you've been locked in this stupid place, asking you for permission_ ).

She nearly jumps with barely restrained joy when you warily take her fingers( _they're surprisingly cool and lightly callused, in contrast to how smooth and warm her neck was_ ), gather up your nerves and place the tips at your throat, swallow and sound out the much harsher clicks that make up your name. Lunari cocks her head to the side and seems to concentrate intently on your hard pronunciation. One hand leaves you to feel the hollow of her own throat, a quiet tinny creaking out. She has almost no problem replicating your name, it just sounds a little different is all( _how the hell does she make it sound like she's singing??_ )

 

"Kar-kat."

She giggles when you face her, genuinely cheerful, and, okay, you'll play this game, you call her back, to which she gives you a single clap and what you think is an excessively joyful smile, but it's nice and different, because she's made you laugh and you haven't laughed or even spoken for however long that you've been here. It feels nice and despite the situation you feel somewhat better even through the difference of communication.

 

In your pan though, you know that this feeling is only temporary. For once, you'd like to ignore it.

 

( _It's still terrible, and you kind of want an ablution, and you still want to go home, but it almost sucks a little less now._ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my tablet is kinda being a dumb, and I guess it's fine, cos I wanted a new one anyway, with a screen, so I can actually tell what the fuck I'm doing instead of drawing blindly.
> 
> .....It's gonna have its own tumblr now, too, god fucking dammit.
> 
> Aaaand translations, all credit goes to the-alternian-lexicon.tumblr.com
> 
> Closer/Move to me/Move closer - Rrennar  
> I - Sem  
> Enemy/Friend - Sela  
> No - Kash  
> Wrong - Lapshad  
> Sorry - Anasui  
> Fuck - Taag  
> Friend/Cahoots - Dasshri
> 
> Also , i'm so sorry for a super late update, i've been having some home problems, still kinda am but i'll get over it. i'll try my utmost to update regularly and consistently, for those of you who still read this. And thank you for your time!

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god, this is gonna be traumatizing as fuck
> 
> :')


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